


caress of steel

by Winkstine5



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, gratuitous fingering, once again ignoring important and pressing duties for nonsense, there's some body worship if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winkstine5/pseuds/Winkstine5
Summary: boba fett pays vader a visit





	caress of steel

**Author's Note:**

> im not exaggerating when i say ive been working on this for literal months  
> anyway i feel its a rite of passage to have at least one inappropriate use if the force fic so here it is  
> special thanks to ariana grande's new fuckin album that literally inspired me to finish this

Boba stared out at the swirling expanses of the galaxy from the bay window in an observation deck within the Executor, arms folded firmly across his chest. A rightfully breathtaking view was of little importance to him, shifting his weight from leg to leg in boredom. He turned his head every few minutes to stare at the door on the far side of the lounge-like room, silently willing the Sith Lord to part the doors and strut in.

He sighed and looked away, shaking his helmeted head as he slowly began pacing the length of the bay window. He was almost insulted—Vader knew damn well how little time either of them had anymore and how busy they both were and still insisted on taking his time. Boba figured it was another pride thing, making his arrival anticipated. Or probably some intimidation tactic. Either way, Fett was far from impressed at this point.

About another ten minutes passed before the doors finally slid open, two stormtroopers entering and standing at either side of the open door, Lord Vader sweeping behind them and into the observation deck in that usual dramatic fashion of his.

Such an unbelievably frustrating man.

"Leave us." He ordered the troops, pointing at the door for emphasis, both turning and heading out immediately, the door sliding shut loudly behind them. Vader slowly turned from the door to face the bounty hunter, the latter just staring at him wordlessly for a moment.

"Pardon the delay." Vader spoke up, strolling over to where Boba was standing by the bay window, glaring up at him behind the T-bar visor of his helmet.

"You're the one who stresses time constraints and is constantly late,  
not me." Fett said as dryly as possible, keeping his arms firmly folded across his chest.

"I was held up."

"Of course you were, my Lord." He shot back. Vader's helmet tilted ever so slightly to the right, slowly lifting his hands to loosely clutch at Boba's arms, gently pulling him a step closer. The bounty hunter didn't resist, uncrossing his arms and lifting his hands up and settling them gently on the sides of Vader's neck, the taller man stooping down and leaning the forehead part of his helmet against Boba's.

Fett sighed behind his helmet and relaxed, rubbing his thumbs in slow circles against the neck covering of Vader's helmet. He closed his eyes, letting the soothing sound of the steady mechanical wheezing of Vader breathing relax him. Vader lightly squeezed his biceps before moving his hands down to settle at Boba's waist, just above the equipment he wore at the waist.

"How was your flight?" Vader asked as quietly as his modulator would permit, which wasn't very quiet at all. Boba knee he wasn't asking to actually know, just to simply fill the silence.

"Fine, as always. You know I'm a good pilot." He drawled, Vader standing straight, the front of his helmet leaving Boba's. He felt oddly cold.

Boba smoothed his hands down Vader's shoulders and arms, feeling the warmth beneath the layers between them fade as slid down to rest his hands against Vader's forearms. He wanted to step a little closer to rest against him but knew he couldn't, less he bump into the buttons at his chest and disrupt something within his suit.

Vader lifted his hands from Boba's waist and took his hands, taking a few steps backwards towards the couch near the bay window. He released one of Fett's hands for a moment to sweep his cape to the side before he sat down, taking his hand once again and pulling him close. Boba settled his knees on either side of Vader legs, easing down to sit upon his lap. His hands left Vader's, reaching up to gently cradle his helmeted head in his hands and leaned forward again, leaning the fronts of their helmets together. Of all they did, this simple act remained the most intimate.

Vader returned his hands to Fett's waist, impatiently undoing the clasp for the belt of pouches he wore, discarding it to the floor carelessly.

"Might wanna be careful there, I've got grenades." Boba said dryly, leaning back to the touch of Vader's hands at his waist.

"They are not yet active." Vader said simply, Boba snorting just a tad in amusement under his helmet, running his fingertips down the ridges of his helmet to rest his hands at the Sith's shoulders.

Vader stroked his waist lightly, a gentle touch so unlike what expected from the insidious Sith Lord but something Fett himself had become intimately familiar with. As jarring as it had been the first time, he found he like the uncharacteristic gentleness of Vader—a type of softness he'd never been given by any other person.

He smirked a little when Vader smoothed his hands over his rear, lightly squeezing his ass.

"In a mood, my Lord?" Boba teased lightly, met with that mechanical breathing as was usual. Vader was never subtle about his intentions and certainly didn't dance around the subject of want—something Boba was grateful for. The Sith Lord was already frustratingly difficult to read during times such as these and he couldn't imagine they'd have ever gotten as far as they had if Vader hadn't made it so apparent.

He slid his hands slowly over Vader's shoulders and down the length of his arms, arching his back to press his ass further into Vader's touch, hands gripping at his forearms. Fett snorted a laugh when he was met with a light, playful smack against his rump, a hand coming around to undo the latches for his armoured cod piece.

"Turn around." Vader insisted, Boba giving him a dirty look behind his helmet. He complied regardless, prying himself from the Sith's hands before getting up, struggling for a moment to appropriately situate himself in accordance to Vader's demand. Gloved hands caught his hips and held him steady as he properly straddled his lap backwards, his own hands moving to cover Vader's.

Fett turned enough to look at Vader from over his shoulder, the Sith squeezing his hips lightly before neatly unwinding his armoured cod piece from his body and tossing it aside carelessly. It hit the coach with a dull thud, bouncing off the surface and hitting onto the floor with a louder metallic thud. It made Boba snort softly enough that his voice modulator didn't pick it up.

It was always so flattering, so intimately reassuring, just how much the Lord of the Sith desired him. It was enough to make him shiver, send his senses and nerve endings into livewire where every touch and caress could set his soul aflame with the mutual want and need.

Rather than going straight for his pants and impatiently jumping right into it, Vader skimmed his hands ever so slowly down his thighs, lightly thunking robotic knuckles beneath a black leather shroud against his the metal of his knee pads.

"You should stand." The Sith Lord suggested, only Fett knew that it was an order. He moved his legs from Vader's lap and stood before him, helping him undo the straps for his kneepads, those clinking to the ground with a far more hushed metallic thud; much lighter than his codpiece had been.

Boba understood the gist, bending at the waist to neatly remove his shoes, feeling cold metal hands encased in black leather slim up his thighs and over his rear, firmly squeezing the cheeks in that greedy and possessive manner he'd become so accustomed to.

"You're impatient today." Fett teased, nudging his shoes aside as he stood up straight, those hands sliding over his waist to his front.

"I am not rushed in the slightest." Vader responded firmly, one of his hands moving to cup the bounty hunter through his pants while the other worked on neatly undoing the buttons. Fett inhaled sharply beneath the modulator of his helmet, biting hard on his lip as he arched his hips forward, pushing against the hand only loosely pressed against him. He supposed he should be ashamed of his near-wanton behavior whenever he was engaged physically with the Sith but he'd long given up on such things with the frequency of their trysts.

Vader slowly and almost impatiently tugged down his trousers and undergarments all at once, hands moving to the bounty hunter's waist to steady him as he stepped out from his pants, kicking them aside and under the couch carelessly. He was stripped down bare beneath the waist, metal hands roving over the form of his lower half appreciatively. 

Fett let his own gloved hands slide over Vader's wrists and forearms, the Sith gripping him by the hips and pulling him to sit back onto his lap.

Boba's helmet collided uncomfortably against his lover's, making him lean his head to the side at a very uncomfortable angle to allow Vader to lean his chin against his shoulder. He'd probably feel that later but found he didn't care much with Vader's cold fingertips trailing over his inner thighs, a touch too gentle to be a human hand.

He couldn't bite back the soft moan that slipped passed his lips when the leather-clad hand slid over and gripped his length, giving a firm enough squeeze to make him shiver. It was unreal how well that Vader understood and remembered his body.

The stroking started slow and deliberate to start, an almost gentle warmup. It was still plenty to get Fett going, nearly every full-length stroke or brush over the head of his hardening erection eliciting a groan that bordered on obscene. Vader didn't make a noise apart from his own breathing, an occasional spike in the steady mechanical wheeze indicating an excitement at seeing the bounty hunter so at his mercy and laid bare.

"Spread your legs." The Sith said quietly, as much of a purr as his modulator would allow. Boba didn't hesitate, shifting his sitting pose on Vader's legs to move up onto his knees, straddling his lap backwards. He wished he'd forgone his helmet this time to get a look at what Vader was planning but the anonymity of their helmets was what made a critical understanding of body language and each other's breathing patterns the most intimate of relations both of them had ever been engaged in.

Vader's free hand settled on his hip, thumb lightly stroking circles to the bare skin there, Boba opting to grip both of his wrists for stability. His grip subsequently tightened when he felt a subtle pressure circling the pucker of muscle between his legs, making him immediately clench in alarm.

"Are you...?" He started slowly, the touch becoming more sure in its movement, prodding incessantly, Boba looking at both of Vader's hands—one at his hip and the other gripping his length—in moderate alarm.

"Is it not to your liking?" Vader asked slowly, the pressure letting up now. There was a lilt in his modulated voice that Boba had come to understand was worry.

"It's surprising. But do go on," He drawled, lightly squeezing Vader's mechanical wrists in an affectionate gesture.

"Perhaps you need some motivation," The Sith enunciated slowly, his mechanical breathing steady. His still hand gripped Fett's cock firmer than before, slowly pumping to match his intrusive use of the Force.

The bounty hunter practically melted, languidly rocking his hips to meet Vader's hand, giving a gasp when a tendril of Force-energy pushed through him. He gave a shudder and shaky sigh as he adjusted, tentatively rocking back to it and closing his eyes under his helmet.

He felt Vader sit up under him, the hand at his hip sliding down and firmly gripping at his inner thigh, pulling his legs apart further. Fett focused on the steady noise of Vader's breathing, his hips bucking towards his hand as the Sith increased the pace of his strokes. One of his hands left Vader's wrist to reach around, grabbing a handful of his cape in almost desperate act, the tendril increasing pace in turn, thrusting upwards just right to make the bounty hunter squirm.

Lord Vader was merciless in all that he did and Fett relished in it, his heavy panting and string of curses audible even over his voice modulator. He was completely undone, bucking his hips wildly towards Vader's fist, arching and crying out when the tendril thrust upwards into his prostate. His thigh trembled under the Sith's steady grip, mechanical fingers twitching now and then to lightly squeeze his flesh.

As he was about to lose himself completely to absolute pleasure, Vader's hand released him and he felt the tendril withdraw in turn, leaving him bereft. Boba so badly wanted to jerk his head back and bang his helmet into Vader's, panting too heavily and too dazed from pleasure to even attempt such.

A leather-clad, mechanical finger took place of the tendril now and Fett couldn't stop himself from letting out a high-pitched moan of surprise, the immediate addition of a second finger eliciting a full-body shiver from him.

He could hear how ragged Vader's breathing was now, thrusting his fingers in slow motions, curling them perfect enough to make his head spin. The Sith Lord's free hand remained gripping at his inner thigh, Boba understanding the pressure wrapping around his erection to be the Force now. He saved comment for later, far too incoherent to really say anything anyways.

Vader twisted his fingers just right, thrusting them hard and rhythmically into his prostate, making Fett arch as he cried out in pleasure, haphazardly throwing his head back against Vader's shoulder. He knew their helmets collided just from the spike in Vader's steady breathing but couldn't be bothered to care at that moment, working back to his hand and the Force in desperation.

He couldn't take much more of it, gripping at Vader's cape tight, feeling the Sith's hand that held his thighs apart move to grip his erection, stroking him alongside the Force.

Fett swore loudly and moaned obscenely, hips jerking erratically to Vader's hand as he finally came, his hips trembling from the exertion of his orgasm, entire body tensing before slowly going limp atop the Sith.

Vader slowed his hands, letting Fett ride out his orgasm against his fist before releasing him, slowly withdrawing his fingers from him. Boba panted heavily to try and regulate his harsh breathing, half paying attention as Vader lifted him, neatly laying him to rest on the couch. Vader pushed up from the couch and stood, crossing the observation deck to go clean off his glove and himself, returning back to where Boba was trying to remember his name and cleaning him off in turn.

He gently caressed the spot on Fett's inner thigh where he had been gripping, grabbing his trousers and such from where they'd been abandoned, neatly redressing his lover.

"How are you feeling?" Vader asked lightly, his helmet tilting just a fraction. Boba thought that such a simple gesture was adorable.

"In a word? Amazing." He drawled, his limbs like jelly as he pushed to sit up, catching Vader's hand in his own and lightly squeezing. He watched with a smile to himself as the mechanical fingers curled over his own.

"But do try and be early next time," Fett teased lightly, leaning against Vader now, stretching out lazily beside him, staring contently out at the stars beyond the bay window.


End file.
